


Millennium

by rotrude



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-10 21:12:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16462427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotrude/pseuds/rotrude
Summary: Millennium series AU in which Arthur is Blomqvist and Merlin is kinda Lisbeth. Or Journalist Arthur Pendragon meets a man from his past.





	Millennium

Stockholm, 2018

The cup, half empty of coffee, stood to his right, the napkin with the cafe logo was pinned under his laptop. The table itself was smeared with the occasional raindrop that fell from the sky at large intervals, but Arthur wasn't in a mood to move his Asus and go inside. He had the right flow of words and wasn't about to stop. The article was shaping up fine. He had hit the right tone, the correct mixture of information and provocation, his challenging remarks questioning the status quo, the government, the people at the top of the pile, the bureaucrats and officials that had made the situation possible.

And it was just as well. Having had to sell his magazine, he needed a hit to ensure his place in it. He didn't like to think strategically. He'd never had to before. He'd always followed the story; he'd always been on a quest for justice, redressing the ills he saw. But things had changed and he had to adapt. Or he would become redundant. What an arc, from shooting star to outcast.

As he worked passers-by hurried past him in a whirl of jackets and hats, umbrellas held like bats as they scurried along the wet pavement. He hardly noticed them. When he had his head in a story he lived and breathed it, with no time for anything else, not people watching, not his private life, nothing.

His phone, which he had put on mute, buzzed. He considered not answering and typing on, but the words 'withheld number' flashed on the screen. This made him curious. Given his job, this might be an informer, a whistleblower, or even an enemy. Whichever it was Arthur wanted to face them. 

“Hello,” he said, after having picked up the phone. 

“Look across.” The voice was low, a burr, which had an echo of familiarity about it but that Arthur couldn't place because it sounded deliberately muffled. 

Even though he still didn't know who was calling, he looked where he was told. Passing cars impeded his view. On the pavement opposite pedestrians hurried past, moving with their heads down against the wind, rendering him unable to focus on anyone. When the crowd cleared, Arthur saw a figure. It was that of a man, tall and slim, encased in black leather, biker's gear, with heavy boots that had more straps than Arthur liked to count. His hair was dark against pale skin, his fringe shading his forehead.

Merlin. It was Merlin. After three years of no contact there he was. Arthur's heart made somersaults, making the blood in his veins race madly. It constricted, making him want to cradle it, nurse the affected area. In an attempt to ease the sensation, he tried to breathe, calm himself, but it was little use. His breath shuddered outwards, and his chest pained him as much as if a gaping wound was there, bleeding out. Trying to hold in the deep emotions Merlin's sight worked in him, he clenched his hands around his mobile. “It's been a while.” Arthur made himself say the words in a level fashion, reining in his tone so that it didn't bleed pain and longing.

Merlin said, “I'm in a mess.”

Merlin, Arthur knew, had a penchant for ending up in dangerous situations. But he also had the wherewithal to get out of them. “What, can't work your hacker skills on this one?”

“I need your help.” Though Merlin spoke softly, Arthur could detect fear in his voice, guilt, a sense of despair even. 

Since Arthur knew there was no one s brave and Merlin, a cold wash of fear cancelled out the heat that had warmed his heart at first realising Merlin had come back to him. What sort of trouble had he run into? Against whom was he butting heads this time? He had no idea but whatever it was Arthur would be there for Merlin. He might be no hacker; he might be no rough and tumble fighter. But he prided himself on being a good journalist, one with good connections and a decent eye for the truth. “I'm in it.”

“Always willing to step in and save the day,” Merlin said, a faint noise of humour, of fondness making it through his tone.

“You know me.” And they had known each other in more ways than one. Merlin had been like lightning. He'd struck his life and changed it from the roots. He had put feelings in Arthur's heart he hadn't thought himself capable of feeling, not to that extent. And he had given Arthur new insight both into himself and the world around him. Arthur would never forget that. He would always remember what had gone down between them. It had burned him inside out. It had nearly killed him. But it had been a joy.

“I wanted to keep you out of it.” On the other side of the street, Merlin shifted, his head down like a penitent's.

Arthur wanted to roar out that he didn't want to be left out of any event of Merlin's life, especially one that scared him so. He didn't want to be safe and sound when Merlin wasn't. He didn't wish to chronicle his death. That'd be the end of Arthur too. “I'm there for you.” Although Arthur had an urge to confess all his feelings to Merlin, he couldn't give way to it. First because it would leave him naked and defenceless. And what if Merlin had stepped out of his life because he didn't need him in it? And secondly because whatever Merlin was involved with seemed rather urgent. Practicalities had to be heeded. “What do you want me to do?”

A policeman appeared at the end of the street, his blue uniform tell-tale. He seemed to be idly checking out the number plates of parked cars.

Though his head didn't snap round and he didn't outwardly react, Merlin must have noticed him. “I'll keep in touch.”

The policeman's presence worried Arthur too. As a mostly law-abiding citizen, Arthur had no reason to fear authorities. And yet Merlin probably did have cause to shy away from them. But Arthur wanted answers. He wanted to know how he could be of use. “Merlin, you need to tell me more.”

“I will,” Merlin breathed out. 

Crackling sounds marred the reception. Arthur had a look at the screen, tried to move so as to get get better signal but the interference, he realised, came from Merlin himself. He heard two more words, a thank you, and then the conversation ended.

When Arthur looked again at the spot Merlin had occupied there was no one there.

Arthur pocketed his phone with a sigh.


End file.
